A snarl bared my fangs. Yeah, the fucker should look guilty.
“Thank you. And Davlov? Make sure the estate is completely locked down. No one gets near my home again.”
“Yes, Sir,” Davlov replied quietly, his jaw tight. He looked at Elliot, then me, his eyes flashing red. Waves of tension emanated from him, whether from guilt at allowing an enemy on theestate, or anger at me for attacking his mate, I didn’t know, nor did I care. My attention was on Bal, but he ignored me, urging Sorcha forward.
It took us a few minutes to bypass the utter carnage I’d left in the wake of my fury and get back through the castle corridors to Bal’s wing. I walked beside Sor where space allowed, and although I was utterly naked, it didn’t seem to faze her. In fact, she looked in a bit of a daze. Concern washed through me; she looked like she might collapse any second. I breathed a sigh of relief when we got to her door. Reaching forward, I opened it. Silently, she walked straight through the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door without a word to either of us.
Bal and I just stood there for a moment. I didn’t know whether to open the door and see if she was okay or leave her alone. I jumped when fingertips brushed the wounds on my side. “You will need more blood to heal.”
Heat bathed my side and back. “My wolf will heal me.”
“He can’t yet. Your vampire side needs to merge with him more before your healing will work as it used to. You will heal quickly when you are well fed and fully turned, until then you are weaker…”
I stepped away, irritated by his concern. Especially when it seemed to come and go depending on his mood. “I wasn’t weak when I broke your compulsion to kneel.”
Bal clenched his jaw. “Believe me, I know that. You are stronger than most fledglings, but you are still unpredictable. We should leave her to rest.”
“You mean walk out on her so that when she’s done in there, she comes back to an empty room and believes I don’t care about her, just as she believes you don’t.”
“I do care about her!” His nostrils flared, his lips pressed tightly together, as if that admission had cost him.
“Then show it, you arrogant arse, instead of insulting her at every turn.”
His dark brows drew down. “I have treated her…”
A muffled sob came from the door.
“Quiet.” I tilted my head, listening.
Bal was at the door before me. He went to open it, then hesitated and glanced at me before knocking. “Sorcha? Is everything alright?”
I rolled my eyes. Clearly, everything was not alright, but at least he’d not barged in without any thought for her privacy. There was nothing but more muffled sobs, like she didn’t want us to hear them. Bal met my gaze, and I nodded. He pushed open the door, and we both cursed.
Sorcha was lying on her side under the spray of hot water, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes squeezed shut. We both dropped to her side, and Bal gently pushed her wet hair from her face. “Sorcha? Can we do anything?”
The gentle timber of his voice touched something deep in my chest.
“It hurts.” Her quiet sobs tore at my chest.
"What does?” I knelt at her back.
Her eyes opened, and she looked at Bal, who seemed to have no issue getting soaked under the spray.
“They hit me.” Sor reluctantly unwound her arms from the protective hold she had on her stomach.
Bal’s nostrils flared, his eyes glinting red as he glanced at me. “We need to get her on the bed.” His tightly controlled words didn’t convey his fury, but the pulsing garnet of his eyes did.
I peered down. Dark bruising marred Sor’s pale skin, and her stomach looked swollen. Bal and I were supernatural, with supernatural healing. Sorcha wasn’t. She’d clearly been punched or kicked in her abdomen and hadn't wanted to tell us. Before I could speak, Bal had Sorcha in his arms and was gone.
I joined them by Sorcha’s bed. He laid her on her back, her head cradled by a soft pillow, and then covered her with a cashmere blanket. He sank on the edge of the bed facing her, his wet t-shirt still moulded to his skin, his hair dripping down his back. “Sorcha, you're bleeding into your abdomen. I think it’s your spleen. We need to stop it. I can do that. Will you let me?”
Sorcha groaned, but looked at me as I took her other hand.
“Let him help you, sweetheart.”
She squeezed my hand and looked at Bal. “Blood?”
“Yes.”
